


A Piece In My Mind

by bubblegummellow



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (Featuring Madison: king of the hate sex third wheel), (REAL mildly though), (this fic would be rated explicit if they actually had sex haha these fantasies are a lot), Banter, Dining, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, Hate Sex, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Sexual Tension, Smut, dom/sub themes, historical fiction- freeform, room where it happens, sexual fantasies, unresovled sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27026923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblegummellow/pseuds/bubblegummellow
Summary: We dream of brighter daysWhile we’re lying in the darkThe price somebody paysWhile they wait to make a markJust to get a recJust to get a voteJust to get a checkJust to stay afloat
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	A Piece In My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> This is close as I will ever come to giving you (as the reader) blue balls... enjoy :)

Madison coughed and sighed into his handkerchief. “So, if we’re going to form a compromise, one of you will have to actually speak.”

Hamilton was torn between chewing their ears off and staying quiet. He wanted to speak his mind more than anything, but if Jefferson started out with the defense, it would be easier to bring him down a peg. Hamilton loved to talk, loved to argue, but there was nothing he loved more than getting the upper hand on Thomas Jefferson.

The dinner had been finished, the plates filled with nothing but bones and vegetable scraps, their glasses of coffee and water empty. The only thing on the table left to use were their recently filled wine glasses. The room itself was a dining room, with almost no furniture besides the table and chairs they sat at. There were pictures on the wall though, of a woman in various beautiful dresses, a gaggle of daughters surrounding Thomas Jefferson. It filled Hamilton with dread to have to be in his political rival’s house, switching between looking at the jovial, kindly Jefferson in the painting and the sour, glowering Jefferson actually in front of him.

They had started the evening with stilted small talk of the weather and their personal lives, no one wanting to start off on the wrong foot. This was supposed to be a compromise meeting, where they would settle how much of Hamilton’s brilliant debt plan to enact at once, or at least what could be exchanged for it. However, while they had been pleasant enough when talking about children or law or women, a new sense of dread had appeared as the hour drew to discuss the elephant in the room. Everything else was taken care of. Now was the time to debate.

“Well, gentlemen,” Hamilton finally broke the silence in the room, eyeing between the two Virginians. Of course they would make him have the first word. “I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me about my plan. I know this is a sort of bitter medicine for you two, but trust me when I say it will make us all well to discuss it,” he paused to eye Jefferson specifically, his eyes narrowing and his mouth falling into a thin smirk as it always did when he spoke to Jefferson. “I would like to thank you in particular, Mr. Jefferson, for offering to host this meeting.”

“It’s my pleasure, Hamilton,” Jefferson said, gripping the stem of his wine glass too tightly. Of course, he was lying through his teeth; having Hamilton track in his filth and mud into his hallways was a new, personal torture, as was the topic of Hamilton’s ungodly debt plan: a bible to governmental power and corruption the likes of which was exactly what Jefferson feared would destroy their virgin nation. However, despite talking to Hamilton feeling like pulling teeth (or more accurately, feeling the want to pull his teeth out), the stalemate in Congress on almost every issue, including the economy, was even more dangerous than Hamilton’s diabolical tendencies. Of course, if Hamilton’s plan was left on the floor of Congress untouched, his fanatics would push every idea through without discretion. Jefferson and Madison had the task of pruning Hamilton’s overgrown vines, leaving the weeds few enough to not strangle the vineyard. It was noble, and would impact the nation forever… but it didn’t make talking to the bastard behind it any more tolerable.

“So, gentlemen, to give you a quick recap of the details of my plan-“

“Hamilton, we’ve read over your plan already,” Madison said, brushing the tablecloth in front of him. Hamilton exhaled, brushing his long hair out of his face and scratching his beard.

“I’m aware, however I can see you have no copies on you, so I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to remind you of the importance of the policies I’m enacting.”

“Let him speak, Jamie,” Thomas said, watching with pride as the gleam in Hamilton’s eyes faded at the sound of his voice. “It’s good to have a reminder of what we need to cut out of that plan.” Hamilton huffed and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shut it and took a deep breath in. Jefferson could practically see the veins in his head throbbing as he began,

“So, the first part of my plan consists of-“

And that’s when Jefferson stopped paying attention. It wasn’t like he could help it, really, or like it mattered; he knew the plan from cover to cover. At first it was because at every cabinet meeting Hamilton would shove it in his face, dropping off dozens of copies onto his desk and stuffing handfuls through the mailslot on his door. Soon enough, Hamilton’s plan was as plentiful in Jefferson’s study as bibles in a church. He had of course skimmed it before, but reading the whole thing seemed pointless at first. Eventually though, one night, he started to read it out of boredom in his study, and he soon found himself reading until morning light came again, his hair frazzled, his brain fried, with still more notes to make of Hamilton’s arrogant stupidity. It was through reading it that he realized that this plan was a core of Hamilton, an essential piece of fodder in his canon that would summarize his entire political policy and writing style. And, of course, Hamilton had an odd effect on Jefferson, where even the thought of him would send his teeth grinding and his temper flaring. You need to know your opponent to beat them, and so soon enough Jefferson has read the plan cover to cover, with detailed notes on everything from arguments to syntax to footnotes. Hamilton obviously knew this extension of himself well, but Jefferson probably knew it second best.

So, considering he had already wasted too much time thinking about this plan, he would not let himself feel guilty for toning out Hamilton. He wasn’t fun to listen to, anyway. He made a habit of reciting out every key detail in a slow emphasis, as if they were primary schoolers instead of politicians. Jefferson had no idea how Hamilton could run his mouth like that so easily, and for so long: the man seemed to get a high from the sound of his own voice. As Jefferson fiddled with the stem of his wine glass, he realized he couldn’t quite blame Hamitlon: his voice had a nice tenor to it, a sort of husky ring as he enunciated every syllable. If Hamilton was talking of pleasant light matters, perhaps even praises, it would be lovely to listen too. 

Hamilton overall had a lovely mouth, a kind face in general. He was handsome in an odd way, with his bright brown eyes, his long chestnut hair and stubble framing those beautiful rosy lips. He had an air of mania that he brought everywhere, a sense of necessity for movement that must have stayed from his time in the war even in their relatively relaxed political climate. Hamilton’s very presence was almost… intoxicating. If only Hamilton could only change the discussion matter, begin talking about how Jefferson was right and brilliant, with those darling lips, this dinner could be quite enjoyable. 

Jefferson shook his head. He couldn’t get off track like that. Hamilton didn’t matter, his points did. He should probably listen back in, before Hamilton’s cryptic siren voice could loop him back into his spell.

“This will consolidate the debts to be paid off, which will bolster the overall credit of the nation and give us a stronger foundation.”

“Really, now?” Jefferson drawled, trying to break the stupor Hamilton had over him and Madison, though Madison’s was of a different sort, as he rolled his head over and blinked at Jefferson, yawning. “It will give us a stronger nation to cripple the money making states?”

“It will give us a stronger nation to resolve our debt, yes Jefferson. Besides, the other states make plenty of money-“

“Trading our goods- our tobacco, corn, indigo- don’t forget the value of our farms.”

“And don’t forget the North’s value as traders,” Hamilton said, before his mouth grow smug. “Don’t forget that I know these issues better than anyone, for I am the secretary of the treasury.”

“Oh, of course you have to play the treasury card.”

“I do when you try to argue with me about the economy!”

“Calm down, gentlemen!” Madison yelled over them, his voice straining at the effort, then provoking a small coughing fit. Jefferson rested a hand on his shoulder, before glaring at Hamilton. Hamilton rolled his eyes: if Jefferson was going to try to blame him for Madison being ill again he was stupider than he thought.

“Hamilton,” Madison said once he could breathe evenly again. “We are well educated men, and we can dispute your plan without being secretary of treasury. Jefferson should make points of rebuttal, that’s the point of this meeting.”

“Well, what points do you have, Jefferson?” Hamitlon asked, leaning back into his chair. A small smirk flirted over Jefferson’s face, making Hamilton narrow his eyes.

“Well, let me think of where to begin… I guess a good place to start would be your continued Northern bias. Our Southern states work tirelessly…”

Hamilton didn’t realize he was losing focus until he had slumped in his chair enough to have his knee hit the table. He sat up again, making sure to still keep eye contact, but he wasn’t going to try to listen. Jefferson drawled out all of his points in this bright, lofty twang that made them swirl in Hamilton’s mind, not helped by the structure of his arguments feeding into each other like a snake eating itself. Besides, Hamilton could predict Jefferson’s points of rebuttal with ease based on their past conversations: blah blah Southern honor blah blah too much federal power blah blah poor farmers blah.

It’d be so much better if he just shut up, or talked about something else even. That was the frustrating thing about Jefferson: he was so close to being someone admirable in Hamilton’s mind. He was a wonderful writer, and had a decent enough mind. Even his voice was beautiful, haunting, even when it only spewed bile. He was… really the whole package, in terms of physical appearance. He has beautiful dark curls that made him stand out against any backdrop, and his face seemed to have been chiseled like a Roman statue, even his black beard smooth and perfectly sculpted across his chin. His eyes leaked intelligencr, energy and passion conveyed effortlessly behind his long lashes, and as he ran a hand over his face as he talked, Hamitlon couldn’t help but admire his wide, sleek fingers, a dark oaky brown that shone in the candlelight like amber.

Hamitlon shook his head, berating himself for getting off track. His thoughts being brought to light would have resulted in some nasty rumors, not to mention Jefferson laughing at him until Hamilton left the country. Besides, it didn’t matter how incredible Jefferson looked: it was his rude, awful demeanor towards him and his ideas that made him an insufferable prick.

“Jemmy, I feel like I’m having all the fun here. Do you have any points of rebuttal?”

“I don’t need a repeat of your party line, gentlemen,” Hamilton interrupted, glaring down the table. “Jefferson, as much as I know you like to run your mouth about your dislike of me, I fail to see how those points address the issues in my debt plan.” 

Jefferson barked out a laugh, not quite believing his ears. “I believe that several of my rebuttals centered around your debt plan, especially my last one discussing how your deliberate shunning of repaying farmers their war bonds destroys the very purpose of the war.” Jefferson rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He could tell Hamilton’s attention had wavered, he had slumped back in his chair to almost look like he was sleeping, but he didn’t think he was stupid enough to admit it.

Hamilton gawked at him. “Oh- you do NOT get to talk to me about the war, you prick-“

“Let’s tone down the swearing gentlemen,” Madison drawled, emptying his wine glass and getting up to grab the bottle. “Hamilton, you can rebuttal Jefferson’s points if you’d like, he summarized my position.” Hamilton puffed his chest with pride, beaming wickedly down the table at Jefferson.

“Certainly, Madison. To begin with-“

But Jefferson wasn’t going to listen to what Hamilton began with. If his hard work and points could be ignored so easily by Hamilton, he would certainly extend the favor in return. He pointedly closed his eyes at first, but the lack of sight made him focus on the dulcet tones of his voice, so he pried his eyes open again. That also made zoning out easy, although not in an ideal way, as Hamilton had a… distracting appearance. Perhaps he could maintain his standards by staring at a body part like his ears, or his nose. or...

That stupid pretty mouth. Jefferson could admit the beauty of his full lips, a tannish hue over soft pink. Hamilton’s voice had become slightly more grating with strain from yelling whatever he was saying, but Jefferson couldn’t help notice that he had quite nice lips. If only he would shut up for once, just stay silent and let himself be a contemplative work of art instead of a blubbering idiot. If only he put his mouth to a better use.

Jefferson sat up, feeling a twitch in his dick at that thought. He would have to pin all of that away, he couldn’t… think of that now, in such an important meeting. He listened to Hamilton blabber on about how not repaying farmers for their bonds was actually what they deserved for their lack of faith in the nation. Fucking- of course it wasn’t, the nation was due to pay them back by that point already, fucking moron. Hamilton needed to shut up and- and get on his knees. He had been introduced to the feeling of oral from a lovely woman in France, and God- if Hamilton stretched his lips around his cock instead of his lies… well, fuck- he huffed and took a sip of wine, like it would cool the fire burning in his veins. Calm the nerves alight with electricity, stop making his blood boil. It could do so, but his mind would heat it all up again, and it was hard not to think about something as enticing as Hamilton finally learning his place, wrapping his mouth around his cock and gagging-

“So, overall, I can’t see a single part of the plan that truly needs work,” Hamilton finished, puffing his chest and beaming at Jefferson. He could tell Jefferson’s attention had wavered, which was the point of his long speech: he would have less to contend with if he couldn’t track it. There was a moment of stony silence, then Jefferson clapped, giving him a sardonic smile. Madison coughed and shook his head.

“Well, thank you Hamilton, but I have a few points of contention, if you would let me speak, Jefferson.”

“Certainly, Jemmy,” Jefferson drawled, running a hand through his beautiful ebony curls. Hamilton felt a little off guard as Jefferson looked at him, a bit hot all of a sudden. What was up with his eyes? He gave Hamilton a dark, smoldering look, before turning his gaze to Madison as he started.

“Well, first of all-“

And then his eyes were back on him, staring at him, half lidded, staring him up and down. Was- was he checking him out? Hamilton felt sweat dot along his browline. How dare Jefferson look at him like that? He had nothing to say, Hamitlon had made sure of it- so he just had gazed at him to attempt to throw him off. With so much heat too- he would have expected that heat from bedroom eyes over a dinner debate, but perhaps Jefferson was a sad lonely virgin. Hamilton traced his finger absentmindedly along his fork, taking solace in the idea. If only he could show Jefferson, wreck that smile and- and ruin him.

Hamitlon cringed at the new heat pooling in his guy. He needed better self control, especially of his carnal side. He had already… well, he had bedded someone else besides his wife, even before tonight, with this idea of Jefferson rising like a phoenix in his chest. He had a serious problem of losing focus on what he wanted in the long term when presented with something good. He was a short term thinker, and when that brain went to his dick…

Jefferson would be different though. Eliza knew of his previous passions with men, and had told him that it wasn’t something that bothered her. He remembered her lying against the pillow, curled up next to him on his back so he could feel the warmth of her full breasts, saying how that didn’t really count as waning affection for her because it was something she couldn’t offer. He… he had already betrayed her, but should he and Jefferson sneak a rendezvous, Eliza would understand.

And God, what he could do to Jefferson. He slumped in his chair a bit, hoping that he didn’t look as obvious as Jefferson, that he had some speck of decorum on the outside while he boiled himself in his thoughts. Jefferson was so- so selfish, a stuck up prick who had everything handed to him. He expected people to bend over backwards, to fall at his feet in blind praise. He knew nothing of Hamilton’s struggle, of him climbing tooth and nail to the top. He viewed it as a background to be scorned instead of one to take pride in, didn’t understand his uniqueness, his prowess, his talent.

But Hamitlon was almost more skilled in the bedroom than the Congress, or so he had been told. He’d be blind to not see Jefferson’s beauty, his flawless oaky complexion, his full lips framed by well groomed black stubble. His springy, soft looking curls, hell, even his drawling, buttery voice was heavenly. He was sure he’d be fit, well endowed, and what Hamilton would pay to be alone with him, to learn every inch of him and what made him tick, and destroy it from the inside. Put him down a peg, introduce him to one, and watch his high and mighty demeanor melt into pleas and soft whimpers for more. Make him understand how good Hamilton was.

“A national bank? What finances does our nation have to hold? What matters could you possibly be expecting to handle alone as a nation?”

“The stealin’ of our hard earned Southern dough, of course,” Jefferson crooned. “You give him too much credit, Maddy.”

“You fucking bastard!” Hamilton yelled, catching both men off guard. Madison went into a coughing fit and grasped his cup of water; Jefferson blinked and seemed to almost shiver, before coolly returning his stare. “Guess what most nations have lying around to keep finances in order? A bank! And guess what America is now-“

“A nation, right.” Jefferson stared daggers into him, his ears flushed red as he stood up. “And guess what this is, what we’re holding right now? A happy little compromise meeting. If you dare to speak to me like that again, I will make it not so nice.” He leaned over the table, gripping the sides, flushing Hamilton’s face and sending heat to the pit of his stomach. His voice was dripping with venom when he spoke, “If you don’t learn how to hold your tongue I’ll teach you, you rotten whore-“

“That’s enough!” Madison commanded, “Both of you! Enough with the insults… “ Madison groaned, slumping in his chair. “Christ, I feel like fucking Washington,” 

“Except you’re on my side instead of Hamilton’s,” Jefferson singsonged, grinning wickedly at Hamilton as he sputtered defenses.

“Yes,” Madison said, before leaning over and whispering, “though I would be more on your side if you could act civil towards Hamilton for five seconds.”

Jefferson’s eyes softened. He was getting a bit carried away, wasn’t he? He knew Madison understood the obnoxiousness of Hamilton’s character, they had actually fraternized quite a bit during the Constitutional drafting. Madison of course fled when he learned of Hamilton’s stupidity and arrogance, but he didn’t hate the man aside from policy and character fault. Jefferson wished sometimes it could be that simple for him: he would have a lot more control over himself if his hatred for Hamilton could also be so weak, but it was just something about him that made his gut heat up, something that snagged him as he tried to take the high road. Besides, yelling at Hamilton was… rewarding, beyond his secret sort of… passion for him.

“I’m sorry, Jemmy. I’ll be more civil from now on,” he said, smiling. Madison returned a soft one.

“Thank you, Jefferson!” Hamilton chirped, making Jefferson whip around and gnash his teeth. Madison coughed again.

“So, Hamilton, I understand your retort, but I must ask.. if you don’t want to change any part of your debt plan, the only way this compromise can work is if you bring an equivalent bargaining point.”

“So I know,” Hamilton clipped, eyeing Jefferson with a wicked grin. “It just so happens I have already thought of the perfect issue to resolve for you.”

“What would that be?” Jefferson regretted what he said, not for the words he spoke, but for his soft, bewildered tone. It spurred Hamilton on, he gave a triumphant smile to him before he cooed.

“I think you would quite enjoy a resolution to the capital debate, Mr. Madison. Especially with a result that favors the South.”

“The capital?” Madison said, his eyes widening. Jefferson stifled a groan. God damnit, Hamilton was so fucking ridiculous. The congressional debates about where to hold the capital had been driving Madison up a wall, he had raved to Jefferson relentlessly about how annoying they were, bickering over something as inconsequential as location. It was not an equivalent exchange for Hamilton’s debt plan in its entirety, but Madison might view it as so simply to restore peace to the House.

“I must say, Hamilton, I’m intrigued,” Madison mulled over a sip of wine for a moment before speaking again. “What location were you thinking?”

“Well, it was something that puzzled me myself, for a little bit…” and then Hamitlon was off, going on about how he decided the best location based on a number of factors essential in the process of choosing the location of a nation’s capital. Jefferson was left stewing, heat clouding his vision. This stupid bastard thought he was getting the upper hand, he thought he knew something. God, Jefferson wanted to ruin him.

He knew that he should stop. These sudden, lustful thoughts weren’t… wrong in this setting, in regards that one man in the room would be sympathetic and the other matched him in sexual vulgarity. Hamilton was a filthy whore, from his war days to- to probably now, though his focus seemed to have narrowed to his wife (and maybe, his wife’s sister, with how she talked of him). Oh, he just knew it was true though, he had to be a little slut. And so if he privately thought of bucking into his face, thought of- of him choking on his dick, gagging as Hamilton blew him through wistful eyes that had learned Jefferson’s value- well, no one needed to know.

And it would be so easy, so easy to just take him now. His mouth was already red from speaking, his voice already raspy. The way his hair framed his face, the way he eyed Jefferson and- god, did he actually wink?! Hamilton was ready for the taking, if Jefferson had the opportunity… of only he could leave, take them somewhere very private and make him grovel at his dick, nuzzling his balls and looking up at him helplessly as he sucked Jefferson’s cock more, his tongue leaving lingering marks on his dick.

He flushed and focused his eyes back on Hamilton, listening to him ramble about how the South was a bad and good location. He couldn’t stand his look, the nonverbal teasing making dick rise in his breeches. Just say it already… either say it or don’t say anything at all. Don’t say anything except “thank you, Jefferson, for letting my whore ass suck your dick.” Drool around his cock, moan around him, swallow all of him down and lap the rest up. Say he wanted that.

“...right on the border of Virginia and Maryland.” Jefferson blinked, to see that Hamilton was actually bending down... to pull out a map of the country, leaning over the table to place it in front of the two men. “Obviously construction will take a while, so it’ll be held in New York or wherever until then.” Hamilton pointed at the map’s border again before looking into Jefferson’s eyes, a stupid sneer on his face, his deep brown eyes endlessly dark and almost half lidded. He was oozing desire, it dribbled down his words when he spoke: “Is this just what you want, Madison?”

“I…” finally, Jefferson was speechless. Hamilton knew it wasn’t just from the location of the capital he picked, although he did look down to admire it, analyze it. Hamilton had seen the look in his eyes though, the way his mouth twitched as he crossed his legs, his hand drumming the table in a steady rhythm. Jefferson was distracted by something else, or so it appeared to Hamilton, and while he couldn’t risk mentioning it with Madison in the room, a small, ridiculous part of him had an ideas as to what it could be. It didn’t matter if it was true, really, the fantasy of Jefferson looking up to him lustfully, needing him, was priceless.

“...Madison, what do you think?” Jefferson asked, leaning back in his chair and looking away. Hamilton’s immediate reaction was anger, for how dare Jefferson not discuss his idea, even if he didn’t care about the capital nearly as much. However, when his old train of thought pulled in, he felt a bit more satisfied; perhaps Jefferson merely was too distracted to build an argument.

“Hm…” Madison was deep in thought, craning his neck to look at the map from every angle. Hamitlon figures he was just stalling, mulling over what to trade, as the location could only have been more appealing to them if it was literally Madison’s home. He took the opportunity though to watch Jefferson, letting his mind drift back to an older train.

He could tell that Jefferson had noticed his waning attention, his lingering looks… but it seemed like Jefferson was returning them. In fact, it was almost as if he was also interested… Jefferson certainly had some very unsavory rumors, ones that would absolutely damn him should they be true, but fraternizing with men was not on that list. Other than babbling about the beauty of France, there was no clue as to his sexuality to override his love of his late wife. He seemed to be completely straight.

But straight men don’t look at other men like that. Jefferson’s eyes seemed only able to open halfway, warm and probing. His mouth was slightly ajar, not to a degree where outsiders like Madison could notice, but Hamilton definitely could. He was practically eye fucking him, he had to be, and god, if Madison wasn’t here Hamilton would act on it in a heartbeat.

If Jefferson was going to think so freely of it, Hamilton would have no shame in fantasizing about him in bed. If he kept that lustful look, perhaps with a bit of whimpering, spreading his legs out and letting his pants fall below the bed… well God, Hamilton would pay to see that. Jefferson looking at him needily, pressing into Hamilton’s touch… he’d pay for that. He’d pay him to clean and open up his pretty little ass, to slide his cock into him...

God, what a picture that would be... Jefferson, whining loudly, his curls around him like a black halo, his eyes pleading. Nothing but ass and- and long dick. A hard dick, bobbing against his stomach, drooling precum as Hamilton pounded into Jefferson’s tight ass until he couldn’t give more and he-he screamed-

“What do you think, Jemmy?” Hamilton snapper out of his yearning to see Jefferson looking to Madison, his heat seemingly cooled over. How could he do that? How could he control his presence so easily? It infuriated Hamilton, which wasn’t good when he was so hot below already.

“I… I think this can be a good exchange for the debt plan, Jefferson.” He looked to Jefferson, smirking. Jefferson gave him a smug look in return, making Hamilton look between the two. This was chump change, he expected them to argue for a lot more than the capital- so why were they looking at each other like Hamilton had given them everything?

“I agree, Mr. Madison. I can’t quite believe it, but it looks like we came to a compromise.” Jefferson smiled, looking between the two before his gaze settled on Hamilton and he narrowed his eyes. “Now, please leave my house.”

“This is perfect for me, I gotta get back home to Dolley... and probably another drink. You two can be insufferable.” Madison chuckled as he slipped on his overcoat, giving Jefferson a short clap on the back and briefly shaking Hamilton’s hand. “Thank you both.”

“Thank you, Jemmy.” Hamilton watched as Jefferson turned to Hamilton, the air of the room seeming to warm around them. Jefferson held out his hand to shake. They met each other’s eyes, Jefferson’s dark and- and pleading, asking…

Hamitlon’s eyes were warm, twinkling and- he licked his lips, starting up at him unwaveringly. Jefferson felt his heart stir, but did that mean-

Hamilton took Jeffferson’s warm hand, electricity sparkling up his nerves at the feeling. His hand was soft, his long fingers gripping him tightly… it felt so good.

Fuck, Hamilton’s hand was course and rough- his fingers callused, but somehow comforting. He looked so beautiful, the fire between his eyes, the smoldering heat he was radiating through- through this damn connection they had formed in their minds-

Hamilton knew exactly what Jefferson wanted.

But, as Jefferson knew, there was no way to act on it.

Hamilton let go of his hand, huffing out a hot breath. “Well, thank you for your time, gentlemen. I’m glad we could reach an agreement.”

“As am I, Hamilton.”

However, perhaps even more enticing than an agreement was the new stake that they could hold over the other; the piece of the other that would linger in their mind… and later, on their hands.  
༺ ༻

**Author's Note:**

> A part of me wishes this was longer and a part of me thinks the fic going on without them jumping each other would be impractical haha. I’m sure they went far enough though!
> 
> Thank you for reading, stay safe, I’ll write soon! -xoxo


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